Ophiomancy
by Lunadeath
Summary: Dumbledore tries to help unite Hogwarts by showing them that there’s a thin line between Houses. He asks those that have been almost sorted into a different House to stand up. This is Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Ophiomancy

Pairings: Harry/Blaise, Draco/? Other het and slash pairings mentioned later on.

Summery: Dumbledore tries to help unite Hogwarts by showing them that there's a thin line between Houses. He asks those that have been almost sorted into a different House to stand up.

Notes: I couldn't get this fic out of my head unless I wrote it. I know it might seem a bit lame at first, but I had fun writing it, and I think that's what mainly counts in fanfiction, don't you? ;

I FIRST wrote this some time last year before book six ever came out. I had NO idea that Blaise is actually black, but that's not a big deal, right? Hehe. Anyway, thanks to the new book coming out, and the better discription of Blaise, I have decided to post this first part to see what others think of it. I will try to write up the next part when I can, but I have two other major fics in the works, so I don't know when I will get to part two to this.

**Definition of Ophiomancy** I found was: _(n) Divination by serpents, as by their manner of eating, or by their coils._ I'm using it for the title, as in the divination between Slytherins by their mannerisms.

**Warnings:** Slash. I'm sure you all know this by now. This is your only warning. There might be bits of Het in here too. Might be slightly OOC, but aren't all fanfiction stories?

**Is now an AU.**

Rating: R

Disclaimer: don't own, and won't make money off of this – characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

**.-The Re-Sorting-.**

The Hogwarts Express rolled into Platform 9 ¾, blowing steam in a type of greeting. Harry Potter, sixteen, and standing at 5'6", smiled at the train's entrance. He had been a bit reluctant about returning to Hogwarts at first, but staying with the Dursleys all summer had him missing his friends and some of his teachers. He also missed Quidditch, which he dearly hoped he was still part of the team, and he even missed the weird creatures that roamed the Forbidden Forest, and can't wait to find out what Hagrid's going to show them next. Even seeing the Slytherins would be better than being at the Dursleys doing nothing.

"Harry!" came a shrilling voice. Harry turned sharply and saw Hermione Granger bouncing up to him, curls flying. He was so pleased to see her.

"Hermione!" Harry was prepared for the usual questions and trustworthiness that he always seen in her eyes, but he wasn't prepared for the pair of arms wrapping around his neck and a face full of bushy brown curls. "OOF! Uh, good—good to see you, too—phttt! Hermione! Phhtt—I'm getting hair in my mouth!"

"Oh, sorry, Harry!" she stepped back tentatively, looking embarrassed. "I'm just so happy to see you! I'm glad you didn't go raving and do something foolish. I was worried about you!"

"But, I owled you three, no, four times this summer letting you know how I've been . . . ."

"Oh, I know, Harry, but—oh, I thought. . . ."

"You thought I was _lying_?" Harry said incredulously.

"Well, no, not exactly! I guess I just wasn't happy with just your words … I wanted proof, to see for myself that you're doing fine and all! You're not angry with me, are you? Oh, Harry, we've got so much to discuss, you know, but not on the train… since it'll be a private conversation and everything, and I . . . ."

"Hermione! Breathe!" Ron said, walking up to them. He gave Harry a relieved look, and Harry raised an eyebrow. "Doing all right, mate? Sorry 'bout her, but you know she can be just like my mum."

Harry grinned, and Hermione smacked Ron on the shoulder.

"Ron!" she huffed.

"See?" Ron said exasperatingly. "She's even getting into physical abuse!"

Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line. "Oh, really, Ron! You're acting like you get abused all the time!"

"By you, I do," Ron said, giving Harry a knowing wink.

"Oh, honestly!" she said, rolling her eyes.

"I knew she'd say that," Ron muttered to Harry.

"I'm going to the Prefect's carriage now, just so you know. . . ."

"I knew she'd say that, too."

Hermione huffed, and whirled away in a flourish of golden locks.

"Damn. To follow, or not to follow, that is a tricky question."

Harry smiled with amusement. "Follow her, you great wanker! I'll go look for a compartment."

"Cheers, Harry!" he said, and then he was running off in the direction Hermione disappeared in.

The ride went as normal as usual. He sat with Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan. Harry mainly stared out the window, watching the scenery go by. Minutes later, he heard Ginny giggle at something Seamus had whispered to her. Harry wondered briefly if they were seeing each other or not, and if not, was she still seeing Dean Thomas. Neville looked to be startled from the laughter, too, staring suspiciously at them.

"No way!" Ginny shrieked. "He thinks I'm _that way??_ That's crazy!"

"Yeah, I mean, he's always been a real playboy," Seamus said. "Never thought of other girls' feelings, it seems . . ."

"Who?" Harry asked.

Ginny and Seamus whirled their heads at him; slightly surprised that Harry was asking that question. "Just Michael," Ginny said. "You know, that idiot that I was going out with last year?"

"Oh," Harry said, "him."

"Yeah, he's a real git." Seamus said.

"Speaking of which," Ginny said, nodding her head at the compartment door. It slid open to reveal the all too familiar face of Draco Malfoy and his two goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"Well, well, well . . ." Malfoy began to say.

"That's a deep subject there, Malfoy," Ginny said.

"Ha-ha," Malfoy said apathetically. "You think because you're last in line of the Weasley blood, you've been given the brains that your brothers were denied."

"Malfoy," Harry's voice rumbled. "I don't know who transformed you back to normal, but they obviously forgot to turn _your_ brain back into a human's."

Seamus, Ginny—and almost reluctantly—Neville, laughed. Draco turned red with what Harry figured was anger.

"You think you're so clever now, Potter!" Malfoy growled. "Just because the Minister believes you and Dumbledore now. . . ."

"Oh, yeah," Harry interrupted. "How is the Minister liking the fact that he had worked side by side with a Death Eater for so many years?"

"Leave My Father out of it, Potter!"

"Or else what?" Harry said challengingly.

Malfoy smirked, lifting his chin a little, and then looked back at Crabbe and Goyle. "Guess," he said.

Just as Harry, Ginny, and Seamus stood, wands out, there was a gasp behind the three Slytherins.

"Get out of it, Malfoy!" Ron's voice was music to Harry's ears.

"Or we'll report you!" said Hermione. The three Slytherins turned and noticed they were now out numbered. Hermione, Ron, Dean, and Luna Lovegood stood before them. Draco was no dummy; he gave Crabbe and Goyle a look that told them to follow his lead, and then he made his way through the crowd of DA members.

"Budge up, idiots." Draco said, slamming his shoulder into Dean's. Crabbe and Goyle were worse with plowing through, almost knocking Hermione down. Ron steadied her with an arm as she grabbed onto Ron's robe instinctively.

"Asshole!" Ron shouted.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"Sorry," he said. "You all right, though?"

"Fine," she said, "but they won't be once I report them."

They all shuffled into the compartment, finding just enough room. Ron and Hermione had squeezed on either side of Harry, Ginny sat next to Ron, and Luna sat by Neville. Dean sat by Seamus, who was sitting on the other side of Ginny. Luna took out the newest edition of The Quibbler, and Ginny opened a silver compact that had different colored blushes and eyeliners in it. She looked into the mirror and started to apply some eye shadow.

"How've you been, Harry?" Dean asked.

"I'm all right," he said. Truthfully, he wasn't so sure if he was all right or not. It felt as if something inside of him changed. He didn't know if it was anything serious, or if it was a normal teenage feeling. Whenever he'd have normal dreams, they'd be weird or erotic. Some were starring his friends, and some had even had a couple enemies in them. Harry couldn't make heads or tails of it all, so he just chalked it up to going insane from the awful year he had last year.

Lost in thought, he didn't realize that they were at Hogwarts already until Hermione poked him in the shoulder.

"We're here, Harry. Get your robes on."

Harry sighed, still lost in thought, and followed his friends out. He had a strange feeling about this year.

.-.

"Another year has come . . ." Dumbledore started. They had just finished the sorting, but the Sorting Hat and stool was still sitting in front of the head table. Professor McGonagall, who was the Deputy Headmistress, usually brought the Sorting Hat and stool back to Dumbledore's office, but this time she just sat down at the head table next to Dumbledore.

"We have a very special experiment for the beginning of this year," the headmaster said, getting many to mumble and whisper amongst themselves. "As you all know, the four houses are divided by certain abilities and traits within yourselves, as well as what choices you make. But, there are times when an individual is suitable for more than one house."

The whispers got bigger. Dumbledore raised a hand for silence, and he got it right away. "There is a thin line between the houses, and it is one's own true nature and will that decides, in the end, which house we truly belong to. As such, I have concocted a test of just how thin this line really is."

Dumbledore walked around the table to where the Sorting Hat still sat on the stool. "I have had a rather interesting chat with the Sorting Hat, and he had agreed that if anyone has changed their minds of where they're stationed now, then they shall have another go at being sorted."

The murmurs started up again. Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I would ask those of you that have been very close to being sorted into another house besides the one you chose, to please stand up."

Many students rose, and then after a while, a few others shakingly got to their feet. Almost reluctantly, Harry stood, being the last to do so. Ron gave him a wary look.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said to the standing students. "Now, for the test." He calmly laced his fingers together and smiled. "Those of you in the Slytherin house that are standing… please sit down if you've almost been sorted into Ravenclaw." About half of the Slytherins that were standing sat down. Draco Malfoy, who had been sitting during all of this, looked up at his best friend, Blaise Zabini, with what would be described as disbelief.

"Slytherins still standing that have almost been sorted into Hufflepuff… sit down."

All but one sat. Draco gave a sharp gasp, mouth gaping and eyes bulging. Blaise Zabini was the only Slytherin to stay standing, his knuckles have gone white against the wooden table.

"No," said Draco, slowly getting angry. "No, please don't tell me, Blaise…" he shot a venomous look at the Gryffindor table and then back at his friend. Blaise nodded slowly, frowning.

"It's true," he said, hands shaking. "I was almost sorted into Gryffindor."

After a few grumbled whispers later, Dumbledore motioned for Blaise to sit down. He turned his attention to the Ravenclaw table next, asking the same questions. Most of the Ravenclaws that were standing were almost sorted into Slytherin, and the other half were almost put into Gryffindor.

When Dumbledore finished doing the Hufflepuff table, which had the least amount of students standing, he finally turned to face the Gryffindor table.

Harry felt a large lump form in his throat. He knew this wasn't going to be good. At first he thought that maybe he should just sit down when Dumbledore asked about those almost sorted into Hufflepuff, seeing that he was actually pretty loyal to his friends and all… but he knew better. He knew that Dumbledore would call him out anyway. Besides that, did he really want to lie about this? He didn't end up in Slytherin after all, so it shouldn't really matter, should it? And when he saw how noble Blaise still stood, knowing that he was almost sorted into Gryffindor and didn't lie about it when Dumbledore asked about the other houses… his respect for the Slytherin grew.

"Those of you that are standing," said Dumbledore, "please sit down if you were almost sorted into Hufflepuff."

Quite a few of those that were standing, including Neville, sat down. Ron continued to look up at Harry with a sinking feeling. He knew that there was no way Harry was almost sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Those that were almost sorted into Ravenclaw…" Dumbledore said, pausing slightly, "sit down."

Hermione, as well as all the others that were still standing, sat. All except for one: Harry.

The entire Great Hall broke into eerie whispers. Harry felt his stomach churn as he stared at the table, willing himself not to look at anyone.

"Harry Potter was almost sorted into Slytherin?" some girl from the Slytherin table bellowed. This made the whispers even harsher. Harry felt his cheeks burning slightly from embarrassment and anger. Draco was exceptionally shocked, but he did recall the fact that Potter was a parselmouth.

"Silence, please!" Professor McGonagall shouted. The Hall finally fell silent. Harry looked up at the teacher's table, giving Dumbledore a slight glare, and then his head turned to look over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was looking both shocked and appalled at this news. Harry moved his gaze from the blond to Zabini, who was looking at Harry with something close to confusion and awe. Harry gulped nervously.

"It's ok, Harry," said Dumbledore. "You may sit down now." Harry sat, trembling as he did.

"Now you see," the headmaster said quietly, "just how thin the line is between houses. I would ask you all to please consider this – what you have seen here – to be a lesson well learned." He motioned a hand at the stool where the sorting hat lay. "Does anyone wish to be resorted, or see if they're capable of being resorted?"

Many at the Gryffindor table turned to look at Harry. Harry tried to make himself look as small as possible in his seat. Hermione sighed audibly next to him and whispered, "I'm definitely staying in Gryffindor. How about you, Harry?"

Harry nodded, his voice not working at the moment.

"Bloody hell, I would want to stay, too!" said Ron on the other side of Harry.

But then, to the other's surprise, Neville stood up and walked over to the front table. Again, there were whispers, as they all stared and pointed at Neville. Harry watched, with some sorrow, as one of his good friends sat on the stool and had the Sorting Hat placed on him once more.

It wasn't before long when the Sorting Hat said, "Hufflepuff!" There were predictable gasps, and then Neville wobbled over to sit at the Hufflepuff table. The Hufflepuffs cheered as he sat next to Hannah Abbott.

"Anyone else like to be resorted?" Dumbledore asked kindly. A couple Hufflepuffs got up and walked toward the front. One was Zacharias Smith, and the other was Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Oh, hell no…" mumbled Ron. "Please don't let that idiot be sorted into Gryffindor…"

"Who?" asked Hermione.

"Smith!" Ron said, exasperated. "I think the whole concept of HIM being a Gryffindor is out of the question!"

"Well, yeah… I suppose," said Hermione, eyeing Zacharias.

The Hufflepuff sat on the stool, and almost immediately, as the hat was placed on his head, it shouted, "Slytherin!"

"I knew it!!" shouted Ron, injuring almost everyone's ears in the process. The Slytherin table clapped. Draco looked very impressed, clapping enthusiastically. Smith sat down at the Slytherin table in front of Malfoy and his cronies, looking very smug.

Justin sat down on the stool looking very eager. The hat was placed upon his head, and then after a while, it shouted, "Gryffindor!"

"Yes!" Harry said suddenly, clapping along with everyone else. Justin walked over to the Gryffindor table with a grin. He sat instantly down where Neville was just at, between Ginny and Hermione.

"Hey, guys." Justin said.

"Hi, Justin." Hermione said.

"Hello, Justin," said Harry. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

"Thanks," Justin blushed slightly, ogling Harry. Harry looked away, staring at the table for a while, and then looked up at the Slytherin table again. To his surprise, Blaise Zabini was staring at him.

"Anyone else?" Dumbledore asked. No one else stood up, so Dumbledore took that as a sign that the resorting was complete. Professor McGonagall started to take the stool and Sorting Hat away, when the Hat suddenly spoke.

"Doesn't Harry Potter wish to switch?" It said loudly.

The Hall went deadly silent as many turned their heads to look at Harry, who was shaking his head vigorously.

"It looks like Mr. Potter doesn't wish to be resorted," said Dumbledore to the Sorting Hat. The Hat harrumphed, and then said, "I still stand by what I said all those years ago!" Professor McGonagall pressed her lips into a fine line before hauling the Hat and the stool away.

Harry wished that the floor would open up and swallow him.

The food finally appeared, and Harry attacked it like it was the only thing that would save him from humiliation. The Hall was soon filled with clattering silverware against plates and mutterings. Harry knew what most of them were talking about, and it aggravated him to no end.

"Hey, it's a good thing you were sorted into Gryffindor, Justin," Ron said, looking relieved. "I would scream bloody murder if Smith was sorted into our house. Wouldn't that be horrible?" he stuffed his face some more.

"Yeah, it would be, actually," said Justin. "We don't really get along too well."

"Well, looks like he's found himself a new friend," said Hermione, pointing at the Slytherin table with her fork. Zacharias Smith was yapping away with Malfoy, who was listening intently, looking like he had just found a long lost brother.

"It figures," said Ron. "Well, they deserve each other, I think."

Harry fought a sudden blush coursing through him. He wasn't sure what this new found reaction meant, but whatever it was, he didn't like it. He did his best to ignore everyone around him, but once in a while he would look back up at the Slytherin table and find Zabini still staring at him.

"What's up with him?" Hermione asked, noticing where Harry's looking. Harry shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat.

"I don't know, but… I think maybe he's still shocked that I was almost sorted into Slytherin," Harry sighed. "And, after all, he was almost sorted into our house."

"Yeah, that was a shock and a half," she said, still eyeing Zabini.

After a few moments of silence, Harry said, "I think I might have a talk with him."

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice.

"What?" said Hermione, looking at him oddly. "You're not serious, are you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, but then said, "Yeah, I guess. I mean – it won't hurt anything, will it? We might have more in common than we think."

"Nutters," said Ron. "You've completely lost it, Harry. There's no way at all that… I mean… are you trying to make _friends_ with him??"

Again, Harry shrugged, looking up at the Slytherin. Blaise's eyes bored into his, making him shiver. "I just want to talk," he said.

"Go for it," said Seamus suddenly, eyes glittering. "It might be a good thing to become a friend of a Slytherin… might become our own little spy, or something."

"Oh, honestly, Seamus!" Hermione huffed. The Irishman snickered, winking at Harry. Harry went red again, having that strange feeling swimming in his stomach. He was starting to get irritated by this monsterous feeling . . . whatever it was.

.-.

When the Sorting Feast was finally over with, everyone started to slowly file out and toward their common rooms, except for Harry. He got up and walked instantly toward the Slytherin table to catch up with Zabini. It was no surprise that Zabini was standing right next to Malfoy, who was known as his best friend, other than Crabbe and Goyle. Smith was also standing there, along with Theodore Nott, looking annoyed to see Harry approach them.

"Blaise Zabini?" Harry said tentatively.

"That's me," said Blaise, smiling slightly; his dark and exotic features making Harry's throat tighten. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Er—to… to talk?"

"About what?" Blaise asked uncertainly. The other Slytherins looked at him warily.

"Well, I figured that since you were almost sorted into Gryffindor, and I was almost sorted into Slytherin…" his voice trailed off.

"You can't become friends with my best friend, Potter," Malfoy said. "I won't allow it."

"Hush, Draco," said Blaise, giving his friend a stern look. Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't you see that he's trying to steal you away?" Draco said, pouting like a spoiled little kid. "First, he decides to refuse my hand of friendship, then he becomes best friends with a Weasley, and now he's trying to take away MY best friend!"

"I'm not trying to take away anyone's friend, Malfoy!" Harry grounded out. Draco glared at him.

"Now, now, children," Blaise said in a teasing manner. "No fighting. Remember, there's a thin line between houses…" this made Draco groan in annoyance, which made Harry happy.

"Shut up about that stupid thin line crap!" Draco growled.

Blaise laughed, "Draco doesn't like what the headmaster did. He knows his best friend better than he thought, now," he smiled.

"For Salazar's sake, shut up!" Draco said.

Harry smiled, despite the fact that he had a group of Slytherins staring at him. "You might be more like me than I first thought," he said to Blaise.

"Hell no!" said Draco. "You are NOTHING like my best friend, Potter!"

Blaise raised an eyebrow, and then gave Harry a little bow.

"It's possible, Potter… it's possible." He winked, which in turn made Harry blush again. He was starting to get really annoyed about this feeling. Blaise must have noticed, because he suddenly had Blaise's hand on his shoulder. "Let's go somewhere to talk, then."

Harry nodded, his cheeks going warm. He stared at the dark boy, noticing that he had very small, light brown freckles on the bridge of his nose and sprinkled lightly around his cheeks. Blaise's brown eyes were shining with something that Harry had never seen before, and he didn't know if it made him excited or nervous.

"Where?" Harry said, finally finding his voice.

Blaise grabbed his wrist. "Follow me," he said softly. Harry nodded, slightly aware of the glares he was receiving from the other Slytherins.

"You're nutters, Blaise," said Draco, still looking put out.

Blaise turned to lay a hand on his best friend's shoulder, "He's not stealing me away, Draco. Don't worry, ok? It'll only take me a few minutes." Draco huffed again, clearly not enjoying it, making Blaise chuckle. "Let's go, then," he said to Harry, and he led them out of the doors and into the hallway.

.-.

The two found themselves in one of Filch's broom cupboards. The fact that he was alone in a cupboard with another boy was making Harry's insides do flips again. Harry ignored what that meant as he stared at Blaise, who was suddenly too close for comfort. Harry backed up a little, only to find the edge of a bench.

"Relax, Harry," Blaise said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you or anything."

Harry gaped slightly. "You said my name."

"Of course I did." Blaise smiled cheekily. "What's wrong with that? If you wish to be friends with me… or, is there something else on your mind?"

That brought those forbidden thoughts to the surface, causing Harry to blush so hard that his cheeks felt like they'd fall off.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, sounding like a trapped animal. The look in Blaise's eyes confirmed just why Blaise didn't object to the talk. He tried swallowing the large lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

"Yes, you do." Blaise said simply. He walked forward, getting Harry to back up more into the workbench. It shook and rattled from the sudden nudge, tools and other equipment jingling behind him. "I know, Harry… I know what's going on in your mind…"

"No, you don't," Harry said tersely. "You haven't a clue…"

"Don't I?" Blaise's face was suddenly all there was in Harry's viewpoint. Harry shivered, looking away, and blushing crazily. "Don't play games with me, Potter," Blaise continued softly. "I noticed the looks you were giving me during the feast, and it wasn't because you were thinking about becoming my friend, was it?"

Harry shook his head, not believing this was all happening. He had been thinking, without realizing it, certain things about the Slytherin, but he didn't think it was anything serious.

"It's not what you think…"

Blaise put both hands on Harry's shoulders, getting Harry to jump slightly.

"I think it is… so don't be denying it, Harry." When he noticed that Harry still wasn't looking at him, he put a finger underneath Harry's chin and forced him to look directly into his eyes. Those green irises flashed, and Blaise knew just why they flashed like that. It was an unmistakable emotion that Blaise knew too well.

"It's _not_," Harry stifled.

"Yes, it _is_," said Blaise, moving closer to Harry's face.

Harry's breath hitched, and soon, before his brain could comprehend just what was going on, his eyes fluttered shut in the expectation of a kiss. Blaise cocked his head a little, and then softly made lip on lip contact with the other boy. Harry shuddered almost violently under his touch, making him, in turn, shudder as well.

It was not at all the way Harry had expected it to be. He remembered the way it felt to kiss Cho, and this was NOT how it had felt before. Blaise's lips were only slightly damp, and they were hot and passionate, and it was affecting him in the most sensual manner ever.

When Blaise finally released his lips from Harry's, Harry pushed at his chest, panting heavily.

"This—this is wrong."

"Is it?" Blaise asked softly. "I doubt it."

"Shut up!" Harry choked. "This… there's no way… I can't be…"

"Looks like you are," Blaise said as nicely as he could.

Harry's cheeks went bright red. "I'll never hear the end of it…"

"There's no way you wouldn't, anyway. You're Harry Potter. You're always talked about."

"I can't … you're—you're Malfoy's best friend…"

"So?" said Blaise, looking amused. "That doesn't mean that I can't have a certain, delectable Gryffindor…"

Harry shook his head wildly, trying to move away from the urging Slytherin. Blaise moved around to keep Harry's body wedged between his and the workbench.

"We can't. We're…"

"We're alike in many ways, Harry. Isn't that why you wanted to talk to me in the first place? Besides, what would we talk about? Quidditch? Homework? I really didn't think there's anything we could start a conversation about. Except for…" he moved his face forward again, and Harry flinched.

"I better go…" Harry said quickly, "before they worry about me and… and come looking for me."

"I placed a Locking Charm on the door," Blaise said absently.

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh, I… no, we can't… we're not even…" he suddenly found himself being kissed again. Against his will, he moaned in Blaise's mouth and slowly moved his hands over Blaise's biceps. Harry felt a sudden thrill of excitement as the kiss deepened, and then suddenly there was a tongue in his mouth, and he was shivering and shaking.

Blaise finally let go of Harry's mouth, and then murmured against them, "Go out with me, Harry… please? I want to be your boyfriend."

Harry gasped, feeling his heart beating madly in his chest. He was so confused, though, that he wasn't sure what he should do. Blaise would be his first boyfriend ever … and if he did say yes, then he'd be coming out of the closet, so to speak. But, if he said no, he might regret it. Blaise was a Slytherin, but he was also a Gryffindor, deep down. That was probably how Blaise felt about him. Had Blaise been pining for him for a while, or was he just jumping into things too quickly?

"I–I'm very flattered, Blaise…" Harry licked his licks nervously. "But, I don't know … can you give me some time to think about it?"

Blaise looked crestfallen, but he said, "All right. I'll give you time. In the meantime, is it ok if I owl you every day? Can we go do something during some Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry didn't understand fully why he nodded, but he did, and it made Blaise's face light up. That look made Harry smile, actually feeling somewhat elated by the turn of events.

"Good. I suppose I couldn't expect anything less from you, Harry. It'll be fun to woo you." Blaise winked.

Harry went red again, and then there were arms around him and lips upon his once more. Harry kissed back with vigor, actually considering changing his mind and saying yes to him.

The kiss ended too soon, and Blaise turned to unlock the door. Harry followed him out silently, cheeks still ablaze, wondering if he should tell his best friends exactly what happened.

TBC

As far as I know, this will be continued. This poor plot bunny had been in the works for months, but hadn't gotten far. Let us hope for the bunny to multiply, eh?


	2. Chapter 2

Ophiomancy part 2

Pairings: Harry/Blaise, Draco/? Other het and slash pairings

Summery: Dumbledore tries to help unite Hogwarts by showing them that there's a thin line between Houses. He asks those that have been almost sorted into a different House to stand up.

**NOTES: Definition of Ophiomancy **I found was: _(n) Divination by serpents, as by their manner of eating, or by their coils. _I'm using it for the title, as in the divination between Slytherins by their mannerisms.

Warnings: Slash. I'm sure you all know this by now. This is your only warning. There might be bits of Het in here too. Might be slightly OOC, but aren't all fan fiction stories? This fic disregards certain things from books 6 and 7, so it's AU.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: don't own, and won't make money off of this – characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**The Chase**

Blaise, usually so very collected and mature, flopped down sideways on his bed in the Slytherin dormitory and stretched out lankily. The goofy grin on his face didn't falter as he placed his hands behind his head and looked up at the canopy of his four-poster.

"I don't want to know," said Draco Malfoy shortly. When they entered the room together, Draco had slammed the door in annoyance, mainly from the look on his best friend's face when he saw him again after the talk with Potter.

"Hmm?" said Blaise nonchalantly.

"You heard," said Draco. "I know what that stupid grin on your face means—that is, I'm pretty damn sure I know what it means—so I don't want to hear it."

"Hark, the jealous git of a friend sings!"

"I am not jealous!" Draco bellowed, kicking the trunk at the foot of his bed. "I just don't like the fact that you're cozying up to Potter now! Just because he asked to talk to you and because he was almost sorted into Slytherin—"

"And because I was almost sorted into Gryffindor."

"Don't remind me!" Draco snarled.

"You just don't like the fact that Harry and I may have just as much in common that you and I have. We're still best friends, Draco. Being with Potter won't change that."

"When you say 'being with Potter' you don't mean…?"

Blaise turned his head to look at Draco, who was standing rigid and white-faced with what was probably shock. Blaise looked back up, smiling again.

"Maybe," he said.

That had done it. Draco was beyond rage now. He picked up the nearest heavy object he could find and threw it at Blaise. Blaise rolled out of the way, off the bed entirely, so not to get hit. He should be mad at Draco for even attempting to do bodily harm to him, but for some reason he found it amusing. He actually laughed a bit.

Just as Malfoy began to hurl insults instead of objects at Blaise, Zacharias Smith entered the dormitory with his wand raised and a panicky look on his face.

"What's going on?" he said, half terrified.

Malfoy rounded on him, growling. Smith drew back.

"It's okay," said Blaise from the floor on the other side of his bed. "Malfoy's just having another temper tantrum."

"I'LL GIVE YOU TEMPER TANTRUM!" Draco screamed. Somehow, not realizing he was doing it, Draco snatched Smith's wand out of his hand and threw it toward Blaise.

"Hey!" Smith bellowed upon realizing that Draco had just tossed his wand across the room.

"Come on, Draco, be reasonable!" Blaise said, not leaving the floor. "I'm not technically _going out _with Harry right now. I'm just wooing him."

"WOOING?" Draco huffed. "I don't care if you're giving him tips on how to manage his scruffy head—YOU WILL _NOT _GO NEAR HIM AGAIN!"

"Why?" said Blaise. "What is so bleeding important that I stay clear of Harry? There really is nothing wrong with him, aside from him being a Gryffindor and being nearsighted…"

"That's right! He's a Gryffindor! He's also the bloody Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One! He's trouble with a capital T! He is also the Dark Lord's number one adversary! Do you have any idea how the Dark Lord will react if he discovers that you're dating Potter?"

"You mean when I start to date him," said Blaise. He slowly poked his head over the edge of his bed when he noticed that Draco's voice was getting calmer and calmer by the second. He hoped it was safe to stand now, but didn't press the matter.

"Yes," said Draco, still looking put out. "When you start to date him… which will be never if I have anything to say about it."

"Oh, give it a rest, will you?" Blaise sighed. "You can't tell me who I can and cannot date. I will not stop going after Potter just because you're jealous and afraid you'll lose me as a best friend."

Draco huffed loudly out of his nose. Zacharias continued to stand there looking a little lost.

"You fancy Potter?" Smith finally said. Draco and Blaise whipped their heads around, almost forgetting that he was there.

"Unfortunately, he does," Draco sighed. "And he won't listen to reason."

"Draco's jealous," said Blaise.

Draco counted backwards from ten so that he wouldn't start throwing stuff around again.

Blaise finally stood and waved his wand at everything. The objects that Draco had thrown at him went back to their specific places, and then Blaise picked up Smith's wand and handed it to him.

"You don't have a very tight grip, do you?" he said, earning a sneering look from Smith.

"I'm _not _jealous, Blaise. Why would I be jealous that you're about to date that arrogant little berk? Not to mention he's such a goodie-goodie?"

"First of all, Draco, Harry was anything but arrogant in that broom cupboard. Second, it's hardly a bad thing to want to do the right thing, if that's what you mean by Harry being a goodie-goodie."

"I see you're already calling him by his first name," sneered Draco.

"Get used to it, Draco," said Blaise. "You'll be hearing that a lot—especially at night. If you're lucky, you may even hear Harry saying—sorry, I mean _screaming _my name."

"If you think I'm allowing that git into Slytherin, you're mad! And I do not want to even think of you two doing… doing _that_, so kindly keep your perverted mind to yourself."

Blaise shook his head and sighed. "You don't understand, but that's fine. That just means there's more Harry Potter for me."

Draco threw his hands up into the air. "Fine! I don't care anymore! Go ahead and date him; wine and dine him; shag him, even! Just don't do it here and don't talk about what you two get up to around me."

"Whatever, Draco," said Blaise.

"Wait," said Smith slowly. "Zabini, you're GAY?"

"That's what it means when one fancies the same sex, Smith," drawled Malfoy.

"Yes," Blaise said plainly to Smith. "I like to keep my options open."

"It's a little too open, I think," said Draco. "Besides, whatever happened to wanting to get into Terry Boot's pants?"

"That was before I realized how delicious Potter was."

Draco scrunched up his nose. "Don't mention the words 'Potter' and 'delicious' in the same sentence."

"How about 'Harry' and 'cute'?" Blaise smirked.

"No," growled Draco.

"… 'Harry' and 'sweet'?"

"NO."

"Harry and… 'sexy'?"

"God, no!" Draco covered his ears. "Shut up, Blaise!"

"You just don't want to admit Harry's attractiveness."

"No, I just want to keep my food in my stomach."

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Me too, thanks," said Smith.

"Oh, stuff it, Smith. You don't hate Potter nearly as much as you pretend."

"No, but we're not friends either," said Smith.

"Oh, yes," said Draco, smirking. "Tell me, just how good of a teacher is Potter?"

"Huh?" said Smith, looking confused.

"Weren't you in his little defense gang?"

Smith scowled. "So what if I was? That bitch Umbridge wasn't teaching us a single, fucking thing."

"She was against Potter, so that was a plus in my book," said Draco.

"But she was wrong," said Blaise. "Harry and the others had the right to rebel against her—and so did the other teachers."

"Blah, blah, blah… who cares about that now?"

Draco sat back down heavily on his bed and huffed, crossing his arms and legs tightly. Blaise sighed and gave up trying to reason with him. Draco can be really irksome whenever things weren't going his way. But he wasn't about to let Draco's moodiness get in his way of wooing Harry. One way or another, he was going to have Harry, whether Draco liked it or not.

.-.

Harry was lying on his own bed, staring up at the canopy, trying to decide whether he should tell his friends what happened. Ron and Hermione (not to mention Seamus, Dean, and Justin) were looking at him expectantly, hoping that he'd tell them everything that transpired between him and Blaise, but Harry had kept his mouth shut and his head down as he walked to Gryffindor Tower. The trip into the common room and to his bed had seemed long and he couldn't wait to get under the covers.

As Harry felt his eyelids getting heavy, and felt the soft pull of sleep, he was startled when he heard a low voice near his ear.

"Are you friends with the Slytherin git now, Harry?"

Harry's eyes shot open and he looked over to see Justin staring straight at him, eyes curious and concern. He wasn't used to anyone being this close to him while he was lying in his bed—especially after he'd just got done snogging another boy—and he backed up against the headboard and sat up a little more, hand grasping on the nightstand for his glasses.

"I—er, friends?" Harry said, placing his glasses on his face. "Well, um, I suppose…"

"Why're you blushing?" Justin asked, gazing at him.

Realizing that he was blushing made Harry blush even harder. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not sure what to say, before shaking his head.

"Does it really matter?"

"Does what matter?" asked Justin. "That you're blushing or that you're friends with Zabini?"

"Er—the friend thing," said Harry.

"Well, to some I guess it would matter, but I think it would be OK as long as you're just friends with him." When Harry didn't answer, Justin's gaze became more piercing. "You're more than friends, aren't you? I knew it."

"No!" Harry said a bit too loudly. "No, it's not that… I mean, Zabini does fancy me, but I'm not so sure what I think of him."

Justin's eyebrows rose. "Did you turn him down or something?"

Harry looked away, cheeks growing hotter. "Er, well, in a way… but, unfortunately, he's going to try to woo me…"

"Woo you?" Justin said, exasperated. Harry looked at him and saw that Justin was looking angry, face red and brows furrowed. "He can't do that!"

"Why not?" Harry asked, dazed.

"Why—" Justin sputtered. "Because I…" He stopped himself from saying anymore and moved away from the bed.

"Because you what?" asked Harry, curiosity now piqued.

"Nothing," muttered Justin.

Before Harry could say anything more, Ron and Seamus were there, in their pajamas, looking confused.

"Did I just hear you right, Harry?" Ron said. "Did you say that Zabini is trying to woo you?"

Harry didn't think now was the right time to be explaining things, but the way they were staring at him made him feel somewhat uncomfortable, and he wanted the case to be closed. Should he tell them just so they could stop pestering him, or should he not say anything just in case? His silence, however, seemed to do the trick, and Ron wasn't looking very happy.

"He is, isn't he?" Ron said, fists balled. "That arse chat you up, didn't he?"

"Ron, it's all right…" Harry tried, but Ron didn't seem to want to listen.

"He's a Slytherin, Harry!"

"Yeah, but as Dumbledore proved, the line between houses can be thin," said Seamus. "Zabini was almost sorted into Gryffindor, so that must mean that he has some bravery in him, a bit of nerve."

"So?" Ron huffed. "Should we just suddenly become friends with him?"

"I never said that," said Seamus. "But Harry did almost go into Slytherin, so why haven't you stopped being his friend?"

"That's ridiculous!" Ron said. "I wouldn't stop being Harry's friend because of that."

"Would you still have been his friend," said Justin, "if Harry actually was in Slytherin?"

The room suddenly went quiet. Everyone was now staring at Ron, waiting for his answer.

"Good question," said Harry suddenly, Gryffindor nerve showing through. "Would you have still been my friend, Ron?"

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, "Well, er, yeah… I guess… I mean, I wouldn't be happy if you were sorted into Slytherin, but I suppose I would still be your friend…"

"Honestly, Ron?" said Harry. When Ron nodded, Harry said, "So, if I decided to tell the sorting hat to go ahead and resort me into Slytherin, you'd still be my best friend?"

Ron looked scandalized. "You wouldn't—there's no way you'd—Harry, are you serious? Would you really get resorted?"

"At the moment, no," said Harry honestly. "But what if I changed my mind, huh? Then what? Would you never speak to me again?"

The others in the room stared at Harry and Ron, not daring to speak. Ron finally looked away from Harry's gaze, defeated.

"I don't know what I'd do," he admitted.

"Hey, here's a thought," said Seamus, eyes glittering. "Why don't you try it for a while?"

Harry looked up at Seamus in surprise. "Try what?"

"Being resorted into Slytherin," said Seamus, grinning. "I mean, we all know that you're actually Gryffindor, but maybe being in Slytherin for a while might be good. I mean, not that being a Slytherin is really THAT good, but what if it's some kind of… uh… lesson learning experience? You don't have to stay in Slytherin, mind. You could always come back to Gryffindor if you like."

"Yeah, that's an idea," said Justin. "Why don't you go into Slytherin for a while, and you could report back to us about it?"

"I don't know…" Harry said. He looked at Ron to see what Ron thought about it all, but Ron still looked defeated. "What do you think, Ron?"

Ron merely shrugged. "I dunno… I dunno anymore… do what you want."

He walked away from Harry's bed and slowly slipped into his own. Harry watched him with a frown.

"Ron, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry if I upset you…"

"It's all right, Harry," said Ron, his back to Harry. "Do what you want. If you want to be a serpent for a while, go ahead."

"But, you'd still be my friend, right? If I did, that is…"

Ron waved a hand at him, back still to Harry. "Yeah, sure. If that's what you want."

Harry frowned, not sure what to make of his friend's reactions. "If it bothers you, though…"

"It's your choice," said Ron curtly. "Do whatever you want."

.-.

The next day, Ron's flippancy about Harry being resorted wasn't sitting well with Harry, and he ended up moping for a while as he made his way to the library. He had a fifteen-inch essay that was due in Charms and he wasn't looking forward to starting it, especially with thoughts of losing Ron as his best friend. If being resorted meant that he had to lose Ron, then he wouldn't do it; only if Ron told him for sure that he wouldn't stop being his best friend would Harry do it.

Before he made it to the library doors, someone grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into an unused classroom. Startled, Harry gripped the handle of his wand, about to pull it out and hex the person, when he was suddenly slammed against the wall and was being snogged hard and deep, hands roaming all over his body. Harry gasped into the person's mouth, about to struggle, when he realized just whom it was that was pressed so tightly against him, kissing the very breath out of him.

Just when Harry shut his eyes and started to enjoy the kiss, the person backed off.

"Still delectable," whispered Blaise.

Harry's cheeks blazed hotly. He gripped at Blaise's front clumsily, bunching up the Slytherin insignia on Blaise's robe, and stared in a daze at him.

"What, why…" Harry tried, but his mouth didn't seem to want to work properly. Blaise gave a low chuckle, and then moved forward to kiss him again, but this time it was gentler.

After a few soft swipes, Harry broke contact, panting harshly. Blaise tried to go in for another kiss, but Harry turned his head away. Blaise laughed at this.

"Still trying to be defiant? That's just fine with me," said Blaise in a deep, promising tone. "I like a challenge…"

Harry pushed him away. "Stop it—I'm not in the mood for your… for this."

"Looks to me like you are," Blaise purred, sneaking a hand over the bulge in Harry's jeans.

Harry gasped and tried to twist away from his grabby hands. Blaise laughed softly, chasing after Harry; although, he couldn't grab hold of Harry's crotch again, he did get both hands onto Harry's arse cheeks. Harry let out an embarrassed squeak, and hurried out of the room. He had to get to where there were more people so that Blaise would stop pawing at him….

"What's wrong, Harry?" Blaise called out to him as Harry ran for the library. "I thought you liked it."

A few other students that were in the halls stared and gaped when they witnessed this, and Harry thought he was going to die of humiliation. He could still feel the ghost of Blaise's hands on his arse, his arms, his thighs, his waist, his groin….

Harry moaned out of annoyance and frustration; he was still hard! Face flame red, Harry quickly marched into the library and tried to find a secluded area. Once he deemed that he was safe, Harry leaned back against a bookshelf, closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. His heart was pounding a mile a minute—Blaise could have been right on his heels.

He wasn't running because he was a coward, and he wasn't running because he didn't like what Blaise was doing; he was running because the thought of what Blaise was doing to his body, how much control the Slytherin had over him, frightened him. He was so used to being the one in control, having others follow his lead that the moment his control was taken out of his hands it was suddenly harrowing.

He didn't know how long he stood there against the books, panting. When all he could hear was the sound of his breathing and the loud thumping of his heart, he finally opened his eyes and turned to make his way over to a table so that he could start on his essay. He picked a spot that Hermione often frequented, sat down gingerly, as if he was sore from working out, set his bag off to the side, and started to pull out parchment, a quill, and some ink.

Slowly, he started to write, but he didn't even get one sentence finished when he felt arms around his shoulders and a hot breath in his ear.

"You look lovely when you sweat."

Harry gasped and his hand jerked and knocked over his bottle of ink. Just as he was about to clean the mess himself, Blaise waved his own wand at it and the ink vanished. Harry turned abruptly around in his seat, glaring at Blaise, his chest suddenly heaving and constricting once more.

"Don't do that!" Harry said in a harsh whisper. "We're in a public place."

"No one's around, though," said Blaise matter-of-factly. He lowered himself to Harry's face again, as if he was going to kiss him, and Harry bowed his head so that he couldn't. Blaise chuckled. "You move pretty fast when you want to, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm fast…" Harry said, trying to sound defiant but it ended up weak.

Blaise grinned and sat down beside Harry at the table. Harry grit his teeth and glared at him, hoping he'd take the hint and just go away.

"I was going to let you go, but something kept telling me to come after you."

"Oh, brilliant," said Harry sardonically.

Blaise leaned in close, and Harry couldn't help backing away slightly.

"Why do you run away from me?" Blaise asked. "What did I do that scared you?"

"I'm not scared," said Harry brusquely.

"Then why'd you run away?"

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he stared down at his parchment. He could feel the heat radiating off of Blaise. He shifted slightly, trying to get away from it, but only managed to nudge his knee against Blaise's, and it made him jump a bit, and then Blaise suddenly had both knees against his, rubbing them together in such an intimate way that it made Harry's face burn.

"I—I wasn't in the mood to—will you stop that?"

"No," said Blaise flatly. He moved a hand onto Harry's thigh. It shivered under his touch.

"This isn't wooing, you know," Harry panted, eyes unfocusing.

"It's not?" said Blaise innocently.

"No," said Harry, trying not to look into Blaise's eyes.

"Then what is?" said Blaise. "Do you want me to buy you sweets and flowers, and send you little love notes? Is that what you want?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but the thought struck him funny. What would happen if Blaise did buy him flowers and candy and send him love notes? Would he like it or would he be even more humiliated? He wasn't a girl, for God's sake!

"You like sweets, don't you?" Blaise asked. "I could get you some…"

"Er, no, that's all right…"

"I'm sure you wouldn't want flowers," grinned Blaise.

Harry shook his head, on the verge of laughing. "No, I don't think flowers is a good idea."

Blaise took Harry's hand into his, and Harry felt his entire body heat up.

"What kind of wooing would you like, then?" Blaise asked, and then he brought Harry's hand up and kissed the back of it gently. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but then left it hanging when Blaise turned his hand around and planted a soft kiss onto his palm.

Harry felt as if he were going to melt and slide right off the chair.

"I—you—we—"

"I don't mind doing our chase," Blaise admitted in a breathy voice. His eyes sparkled as he looked up into Harry's, and for some reason Harry couldn't look away.

"C-chase?" Harry stuttered softly. His heart was now pounding roughly in his ears.

"Yes—you do like it when I chase you, don't you? You're the snitch in the game now. You like running away from my needy hands. You like it when I chase after you."

Harry wanted to deny this, but the words were stuck in his throat. Was what Blaise saying true? Did he really like it when he was being pursued in this manner? Well, he did like it when Blaise finally caught him… did he also like it when Blaise was pawing at him? Did he like the look in Blaise's eyes whenever he stared at him? Thinking back to when he was running from Blaise, he remembered a fleeting glee as he ran, the thought of Blaise being right behind him was a thrill—it excited him!

Oh, shit—he was hard again.

"I—I gotta go," he said hurriedly. He started to put his things away.

"You just got here," Blaise chuckled.

"I—I think it would be best if I finished my homework in the Gryffindor common room…"

Blaise stood and watched as Harry shakingly stuffed his things back into his bag, hoisted it over his shoulder, and turned to leave. Blaise blocked his way. Harry blushed brightly.

"Um," said Harry. "Could you move, please?"

"Pay the toll first," came the amused answer.

Harry felt his entire body flush and he tried not to look at Blaise. "Please, could you just—I don't want you to…"

Blaise's lips grazed Harry's as Harry tried to move around Blaise's body. Blaise followed him, lips still kissing Harry's, and as Harry finally got himself around Blaise so that he could make a run for it, Blaise's light touch on his arms stopped him and he was suddenly kissing back, mouths hungry and greedy.

But when Blaise tried to back Harry up against a bookshelf, Harry let out a small gasp and darted out of his arms and hurried for the exit. Blaise wanted to chase him again, just to give what Harry wanted, but he knew it to be fruitless. Harry was headed for the Gryffindor Tower.

He'd never wanted anyone more at that moment.

TBC


End file.
